


Come Here Often?

by Mimsys



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hospitals, Injury, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sickness, might end up with a sequel tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-04
Updated: 2015-06-04
Packaged: 2018-04-02 20:40:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4073170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mimsys/pseuds/Mimsys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Bucky need to stop meeting in doctor's offices and ERs; seeing Steve hurt and sick so often is going to drive Bucky crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Here Often?

“We need to stop meeting like this.” Bucky jokes and it’s true. He’s not sure how many more times he can bear to see Steve bloody and bandaged in the waiting room of various emergency rooms, hospitals, and doctors’ offices around the city. Bucky’s usually there for Clint since the idiot can’t seem to stay out of trouble or for Natasha, who wouldn’t have gone to a doctor at all if Bucky didn’t force her to. Steve, though, is always in a bad shape when they run into each other. This time, his chest is bared and there are layers of bandages wrapped around his too thin frame, accentuated by his jutting ribs.His pale skin looks sickly compared to purple bruises and the dark skinned man supporting him. “Sam, right?” He extends his hand without moving his worried gaze from Steve.

“Yeah.” There’s quiet humor in the man’s voice and Bucky doesn’t understand it; if he were in his shoes, he’d be too focused on keeping Steve from hurting himself further to even begin to find anything remotely humorous. At least he didn’t laugh; Bucky’s not sure his frazzled nerves could have taken that, what with Clint getting a kidney stone taken care of and Steve looking like death warmed over. “His roommate. You’re Bucky, yeah? The guy he never shuts up about.”

Bucky wants to enjoy that fact, wants to crack a smile at the very least, but Steve’s not up to any talking right now; he’s not even smacking at Sam and demanding that Bucky ignore the comment. It scares him more than he wants to admit. Steve’s pale and his blue eyes are unfocused, settling on something just over Bucky’s shoulder; he’s more slumped than leaning against Sam and his lips were slightly parted - and no, thank you, Bucky didn’t wonder what they felt like on his. Okay maybe he did. Just a little.

The first time they’d met hadn’t been so different, really. Steve had been shaky on his feet but stubborn and headstrong after a fight with an asshole who wouldn’t stop picking on a young boy that lived in Steve’s neighborhood; he’d been bleeding profusely from a split lip and a cut on his forehead and his bruises had made him look even smaller, even younger, than his twentyfive years of age. “I had ‘em on the ropes.” He’d slurred to Bucky, mind made hazy by painkillers. “But Sam told ‘em to scatter and they did. Like chickens.” He’d found that hilarious, had clucked and made a fuss until falling asleep rather suddenly on Bucky’s shoulder.

“Yeah that’s me, I guess. Hey Stevie, can you focus on me until they call your name?” The blond shifted against Sam’s side, eyes wandering until they latched onto Bucky’s face. “What happened?”

“Fall down the stairs.” Sam said grimly, easing Steve down onto a chair before taking one for himself. “He’s a bit shaken up but not hurt too badly; we’re just making sure he didn’t do anything wonky to his ribs because he can’t afford for them to press down on his lungs. Asthma and all, you know?”

“Oh.” Bucky said softly because no, he hadn’t known. But they were at a hospital, after all; he bet he could get an inhaler and keep it with him, just in case…

“Buck?” The name’s slurred on Steve’s tongue but Bucky can’t bring himself to care; he reached out for Steve’s shoulder and the blond sighed softly, letting his head loll to the side so his cheek rested on the back of Bucky’s hand. “Come here often?” He asked, voice sounding painfully hoarse and broken.

“Not as often as you.” Bucky replied weakly, shaking his head. “You’re going to drive me mad with worry, you know. Last time it was a panic attack that led to an asthma attack and you’d bruised your lungs. The time before, you’d gotten beat up - again, I might add - while defending the less able. What was it before that, again?”

 

“Pneumonia.” Sam filled in when Steve didn’t come up with an answer right away. “And then a flu before that.” Steve scowled at them both, sagging against Sam’s side in the chair. “Right, okay, I’m getting you into an office now.” Sam said, carefully standing and extracting himself. “Keep him from hurting himself worse, Barnes; I’m going to go see if I can speed up the process. Next time, I’m taking your sorry ass to Stark medical if you like it or not.” He added to Steve, brow furrowed in concern. “You can live with Tony’s fretting.”

“Tony Stark as in the Tony Stark?” Bucky asked absently, feeling overwhelmed, as Sam strode off. “You know Tony Stark?” Steve hummed in acknowledgment and Bucky sighed, kneeling before the other and holding him up. “He’s lucky to know someone like you, Stevie.” He added and Steve looked over in confusion because that’s not what people usually said. “I mean it.”

“You barely know me.” Steve protested, a faint flush spreading over too pale cheeks. “You don’t know me at all, actually.”

 

“We could change that.” Came Bucky’s quick reply. “If you want to, that is. Here.” He wrote his number down on a pamphlet that was lying on the side tables throughout the waiting room. “Call me if you’d like.”

Steve slipped it into his pocket even as Sam returned with a wheelchair and a warm smile. “We’ve got you moved up. Come on, Rogers; let’s get you into the wheelchair so you don’t trip on your own two feet again.”

Steve huffed, flashing Bucky a quick smile. “They’re going to put me on some pretty heavy duty painkillers-”

“And take an x-ray of your chest, so hand over your phone.” Sam interjected.

Steve compiled before continuing. “So I probably won’t be able to call tonight. I’ll text you once I’m better though, alright?” He stretched out a hand as Sam helped him up, giving Bucky’s a shake.

“That sounds great.” Bucky replied, pretending not to notice the way Sam gave him a critical once over before nodding. “Feel better, alright? I should go check on my friend anyway. He’ll complain the whole way home if I don’t.”

Steve nodded, smile warm despite the pain drawing his features tight. “Hope he feels better; see you around.”

“Hopefully not here.” Bucky replied dryly as Sam rolled Steve towards the front desk.

That night, he got two texts. One was from Steve, as evidenced by the numerous typos and the apology a few days after; the other was from Sam and simply read _thank you_.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment/leave kudos if you liked it!


End file.
